Meeting a Legend
by benign intent
Summary: A young storyteller encounters his favorite subject material, the former hitokiri Battousai.
1. Convergent Paths

Disclaimer: I do not own Kenshin. Be grateful, because I would not share. Nor do I own any of Watsuki-sama's other characters. Kadsure is my own creation.

Meeting a Legend

Chapter One: Convergent Paths

The rocky ground up the steep slope could be felt through the traveler's sandals. The day seemed much hotter outside the shade of trees now below him. Kadsure wiped sweat from his eye and was grateful for the goattrack winding its way around the mountaintop.

The hospitality of the village in the valley it led to would be worth it; as the news he carried would be to them.

Kadsure didn't come this way very often, but those living here were familiar. There were some few messengers like him, traversing wilderness-at least compared to cities like Kyoto and the newly-named Tokyo-to bring word to less-frequented areas. His route was beneath the notice of most merchants, not on or near any lengthy, maintained paths for wagons and carts. He was also paid little for his service, but he couldn't mind.

Kadsure had grown up in a place much the same and found it amusing to return to it so happily when as a younger man he had wished so much to leave.

It was a satisfactory arrangement; he was an honored guest when he did arrive, bearing letters and tales, balancing important news with ridiculous entertainment and gossip. He flattered himself that, though only in his mid-twenties with an admittedly rustic background, he could compete with the best of the sharp-witted oldsters about a fire. This, he reassured himself, was worth the toil with his heavy pack alone for days and nights at a time. As long as he remained somewhat of a curiosity and brought a bit of excitement, he could be welcome in many areas and easily bear temporary privations.

Some company would be welcome, but he had done well so far by himself; though an easy, if unprofitable, mark, he had not encountered bandits or roaming bands of renegade soldiers, or even too many honest folk, for that matter. There were always stories of such happenings-he told some himself-but though they did occur, it was not as frequent as feared. Bad news always had gone further.

That made it all the more satisfying to carry word of new births and marriages, not just sickness and death; prosperity and good wishes, not entreaties to relations.

He expected to see a resident soon. The breeze at the false peak was refreshing and Kadsure could now make out the stream flowing a distance below him. It would lead him circuitously to the center village, if he chose to follow it. The marks of human occupation were now everywhere; felled trees and cleared fields, fenced pasture, all the anticipated signs even a small community made over generations.

Kadsure adjusted his pack and proceeded with a bit more bounce to his step despite the heat of the afternoon.

>>>

Small clues let Kenshin know he was approaching civilized territory once again. These were confirmed when he crossed a recent human trail that had left a snare for a rabbit behind. He suspected that in another half hour he would come upon the village most likely beyond the western edge of the woods he was walking through.

Kenshin had abandoned the road many miles northeast of here, habitually skirting all places with a greater likelihood of knowledgeable contact. By now, four years after Toba-Fushimi, he was old news, but his legend had grown in the telling. Battousai was a hero or a villain, the skilled slayer of warriors and samurai for the Ishin patriots or the bloodthirsty slaughterer of women and children. They increased the danger of recognition immensely, but conversely reduced it as well, as the stuff of stories did not often enter into daily life.

As long as he did not appear in the middle of the night, as long as he smiled, people would somehow _overlook_ the proof of his red hair, and merely be curious, naggingly puzzled. Until he drew his _sakabatou _in conflict, most would even do no more than look askance at his blade.

If swords were drawn, it was time to leave.

Those who were actively seeking revenge against the Battousai were worrisome enough, but incalculably many more would seize the opportunity meeting him would provide. His main concern must always be for the innocents and bystanders that would be in harm's way.

If he left early enough, Kenshin could help the people he met and leave before the burden of his past attracted trouble. Wandering was the best solution for all.

His resolve firmed, Kenshin cast aside all appearance of wariness while ironically raising his mental defenses, prepared to meet strangers over the next rise.

>>>

Nekotsuki and member of RCUS, I present this especially to you!

benign intent


	2. Parallels Don't Intersect

Meeting a Legend:  
Parallels Don't Intersect

As usual, a child noticed him first.

"Okaa-san! Mother! Look, a _traveler_!"

Kenshin deliberately spread his arms with a dissembling "Oro?" as the occupants of the entire street (a whole seven buildings) watched him step down from the small bridge over the stream. His worn sandal poised inches above the ground, he hesitated an instant at the shout before proceeding a few paces more with a disarming smile and general bow.

When he straightened, no less than five children of various ages had moved gleefully in front of him, under the no-less-curious gaze of their guardians.

"Who are you?"  
"Whatcha carrying?"  
"Where're you from?"  
"_Sugoi_! Your hair!"  
"…"

"Oro!"

Having thus expertly dodged the first barrage, he offered a token amount of information, ostensibly to those who'd asked.

"This one is a rurouni, that I am."

He further relented when that did not suffice, as he knew it would not.

"Sessha is only wandering through, from the east around Tsuyama. Could this one, perhaps, offer any service in exchange for shelter?"

The two women nearby exchanged glances and one disappeared into the newest building, as indicated by the ceramic tiles of the roof; the others in evidence remained thatched.

Kenshin was prepared to wait for the results of the probable consultation, and deposited his sack to one side.

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Kadsure had met Yoshi-kun and his father working outside, Yoshi having matured nearly past recognition in so short a time! Or, wait, he hadn't visited here last year at all, had he? The boy he remembered didn't appear so much a boy anymore. He felt a surge of sympathy for those adults always saying, "But it feels like yesterday that…" and laughed quietly for even imagining himself as old--even if older and older children had started looking so _young_.

He removed the few written notes he'd acquired to be given to Urayaji-san, who knelt across from him and offered tea. Drinking politely, grateful for the liquid and the courtesy, if not the warmth, he prepared to give an overview of the most important information, none of which, he thanked the kami, was dire or urgent.

With a bit of effort, Kadsure was proud to say he could read the letters, as could Urayaji-san, but it was simpler to recall the message as it was given aloud. Urayaji-san could decrypt the simple communications for himself later.

Hadana-san entered quietly before they had done more than exchange pleasantries, and waited for Urayaji-san. It was obvious that she had something to say, and Kadsure wordlessly excused her intrusion.

Urayaji showed a flicker of surprise, but not alarm, as she quietly spoke and gestured out the door. Kadsure sipped his tea and waited only an instant before Urayaji returned but did not seat himself.

"It seems a day for guests; a wanderer has just arrived, traveling west." He smiled at Kadsure, who moved to rise. "Iie, please, you may wait. I shall meet him, and tonight we might share happenings, both west and east."

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By the time the woman came back with a man, Kenshin had inveigled the names of his new confederates and was scrabbling in the dust after little Suhara, to the bemusement of her grandmother. He sent the children after stones and collected a pile of assorted lumps until he obtained three of the approximately right size.

"Shirioka-kun, Kawatachi-kun, Sessha has enough now! Come see!"

Urayaji eyed the young stranger rather proficiently juggling rocks, and regretted that he stopped almost immediately with smiling apologies and "Perhaps again, later." He'd not had time to consider this odd situation before the situation was bowing in greeting.

"Good day, otoko-san. Sessha wa rurouni, de gozaru."

Speaking of odd… He raised his eyebrows at the excessive formality, out-of-date and out-of-place, spoken with ease. And a sword…perplexing, without doubt.

"Hasagawa Urayaji desu, rurouni-san. My wife says you travel from Tsuyama and wish shelter for tonight?"

"Hai, this one wandered through the region. I would work for my stay before the rains begin. Sessha was planning to find a place to stay dry when I came across sign of you here. This one would be grateful."

"Before the rains begin…" Today had been humid, sure, but it was a bit premature for monsoon season: early summer, not yet June!

"This one overheard merchants on the road speak of a typhoon in Kagoshima already last week, Hasagawa-san. Tosa, then Osaka, would likely follow, so they will not be long in coming now."

"Ano, Kadsure-kun will know." More decisively, "Rurouni-san, you are actually the _second_ visitor here today." He turned to the mother and children, "Kadsure-kun has news enough for us all, once we've gathered. Hadana, would you--"

"Hai," she bowed and smiled as she walked away.

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I am enjoying mixing Romaji into this! Instead of using it whenever possible or not at all, instead of interrupting the flow completely, I'm trying to be sure to use it in an understandable context. This, I've noticed, doesn't mean I don't need to include some explanation. Darn.

sugoi-cool, neat, wow!  
rurouni-wanderer  
sessha-archaic 'self,' third person  
otoko-san- Sir  
Hai-yes  
Iie/Iya-no  
Ano-um  
desu-said w/introduction, name  
de gozaru-archaic polite phrase, "that it is"  
Oro- all-purpose Kenshin exclamation  
kami-gods

Thank you, reviewers WhiteRabbit5, Katie, PraiseDivineMercy, Nekotsuki, lolo popoki, and moeru himura!


	3. Of Days and Nights

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin is the property of someone other than me. This fanfiction provides me no monetary profit whatsoever. I hope it does net some worth, however, as entertainment, and garner positive responses :)

Note: I have been informed that "Kadsure" cannot be written in Japanese. I remain reluctant to use popular names from other fics and anime, so I apologize for any other misses, though I'll be more careful. I'm trying for accuracy, but am certain I will slip up again elsewhere. I will be pleased to fix errors if notified, (well, maybe not _pleased_, I don't want errors to begin with) but I'm quite attached to Kadsure, so he remains.

Meeting a Legend:  
Of Days and Nights

Kenshin followed Hasagawa-san into the building, wondering what news might hold interest for the village. Was this part of the prefecture to the north, under Tottori, or to the one a near-equal distance south, part of Okayama district? What had he heard those days earlier from the merchants? Urayaji-san seemed to expect his opinion of Tsuyama, but Kenshin had not been directly through there, in truth, avoiding it as too great a risk. There was no place left where there was no risk, it seemed, yet it was not so great that Kenshin could justify finding a cave in the mountains and giving up all hope of leaving the past behind him. After all, many people thought he'd never existed, and was the legend _only_, nothing else.

Kenshin had, in fact, very nearly entered Tsuyama, as it was not a large city, really, but the markets busy enough in the day for him to discreetly make purchases. Unfortunately, it was _not _midday when he arrived, and a man too far gone in sake to be taken seriously nevertheless became a fearful hazard, so he'd turned around and left.

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_A belligerent drunk exited the street Kenshin had intended to enter, and he sighed to himself. Had the man nothing better to do than wander the outskirts alone muttering to himself?_

_"…baka onna… stupid woman can't tell me what to do…show _her_…wouldn't…_ _"_

_Aa, seemed so. If Kenshin were any judge, the man had no money left to draw assailants, but that wouldn't necessarily keep him safe. Opportunist criminals would attack on the off-chance he retained some yen, and some were truly idiots who wouldn't realize that one as determinedly drunk as he would have spent all he carried._

_He could leave this alone, but Kenshin had nothing better to do. The markets were closed, and he wouldn't disturb a resident for shelter­­­–tonight was clear after this afternoon's brief rain–so he'd just settle somewhere not too damp and watch over the fool._

–_Except said fool changed his mind about pacing aimlessly and his ki_ _designated violence to a person in particular instead of anger in general._

_Kenshin intercepted the stranger's return path to the city._

_"You do not mean to do what you are intending, that you do not."_

_"Che, outta my way. Ya dunno what'cha talkin' 'bout." He moved to go around Kenshin, who blocked him again._

_"You will regret this in the morning, that you will."_

_"Who d'ya think you are? I said to get outta my way!" Kenshin easily sidestepped his annoyed assault, and impassively watched the resulting stumble. The embarrassment completely diverted the man's aggression to this new irritation._

_Kenshin interposed himself further between the man and his goal, just to be sure._

_Only, now, as the man raised his fists, he noticed the sword at Kenshin's waist. "Draw that then, if you know how to use it!" He stood stolidly under Kenshin's measuring "I think not" and patient position, feeling his aggravation rise. "Your mistake, then!"_

_What followed was an entertaining sight of an unsuccessful alley game of "swat the little pest," if they had been watched._

_Out of breath, but only slightly less infuriated, the man felt much more sober for his activity, and watched the youth settle lightly back into a ready stance. He suppressed his unreasoning desire to attack the interfering nuisance, and for the first time, paid attention to the one he had been trying to hit._

_Kenshin's gaze never strayed from his opponent, even as the man's anxiety grew. It mounted higher, as Kenshin regretfully tilted his head and waited for the man to confirm that, yes, the dim lighting didn't fully conceal his _red_ hair, and _no_, he had not imagined the bold scar on his face, and…_

_"Battousai!" said disbelievingly, and, thankfully, _quietly_. The man undoubtedly felt _much _too sober right about now._

_"Hitokiri Battousai!" he repeated, with a bit more volume, and Kenshin masked a wince. He opened his mouth to say _something_, perhaps his usual confused act would work once again, or, he could…_

_Kenshin touched the hilt of his blade, the sakabatou always reassuring; he could explain that he meant no harm to anyone, but…that instinctive movement terrified the man, who gulped and fled. _

_Kenshin let him go. _

_Ano, at least he will not be causing more trouble this night. _

_It would be a good idea _not_ to stay in the area if he and friends or authorities were to come here, though. His plans to stay tomorrow were no longer wise._

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Unfortunate nighttime paranoia! Hardly anyone met him in the dark and didn't recall disturbing possibilities he matched a bit too well. It was so much simpler to arrive when they were confident, in daylight. The legendary Battousai never walked around under the revealing sun, after all, as assassins belonged to the concealing shadows…

which was a large misconception to begin with. As a hitokiri, Kenshin _had _been most active at night, but in the latter years of the Revolution, he had forsaken the secrecy that had been necessity along with the assassinations, likely the true reason he was so notorious now. Also, other manslayers didn't rely so heavily on cover of darkness when not…on duty…because they lacked such obvious distinguishing marks.

In short, it was foolish to trust just because of daylight, and foolish to mistrust because of moonlight…but that wasn't what he'd meant to draw as a conclusion, was it? Trust was such an entirely difficult concept.

Here his mind had gone wandering again, as if it didn't do enough of that while he walked. He had not been lost in reverie long, yet beside Hasagawa-san, he faced the other visitor, slightly older than himself, who, _curses_! reacted instantly with a rapid blend of

wonder_excitement_**doubt**_fear_curiosity**caution** that all but shouted "I know who you are!"

Urayaji-san could not miss such a blatant response, and did not know what to make of it.

Hopefully.

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Aa- informal yes  
Ano- um, uh  
Baka- idiot, stupid, foolish  
Battousai- Kenshin's nickname; master of battoujutsu (rapid sword-drawing technique)  
Che!- mild curse  
Hitokiri- manslayer, assassin  
Ki- aura  
Onna- woman, female  
Sakabatou- reverse-blade sword, sharp and dull edges switched

I didn't finish all I'd intended for this chapter. _Next _time should actually have a bit more of the present? Expect at least one Battousai-tale, I hope!

lolo popoki, A lilmatchgirl, moeru himura, WolfDaughter, kuramagurl, WhiteRabbit5, JOJO, BakaBokken, Kasifya, Katie: Thank you for your kind reviews! Your comments are highly appreciated!


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